


don't be afraid if there's no wind

by worry



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Character Study, Identity Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7539736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside of Spike’s skin, Angel lets out something that would be a weep if this story was something other than a story. Something other than a myth.</p><p>(Or: Angel sheds some skin.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't be afraid if there's no wind

i.

 

Inside of Spike’s skin, Angel lets out something that would be a weep if this story was something other than a story. Something other than a myth.

 

Shedding skin gets easier as you go — you leave it all behind and form yourself into something new. You discard the old skin, the old version of you. It is an incredible power to be able to change who you are, and it is a frightening power to _know_ who you are. Monsters are thick, cruel things that hurt people. What is it like to be the monster under your own bed? The antagonist in your own story? The villain _and_ the hero?

 

There are monsters that don’t look like monsters. They look like people. Some monsters look like people, and that’s the worst part of it all – you have a choice in how you view the world. You can assume that everyone is a monster, or you can assume that everyone is kind.

 

That choice was ripped away from Angel when his neck was ripped open. When you turn, you learn a lot about the world, and then you shed your skin to stop it all. You shed other skin, too. Skin is some sort of constant in vampirism. The skin of your lovers. Your skin, and the feeling of crushing a life with it.

 

Angel picks up a blade and starts at his hair. Soon he will bury his previous life in the ground and become something desirable. Something in the underneaths of _wanted._

 

Soon he will become Spike. Soon he will become what he fears most.

 

(Inside of Spike’s skin, Angel lets out a real weep.)

 

ii.

 

 

It turns out that shedding skin isn’t easy when you’re not made for it. It turns out that running from your previous life is harder than it looks; anyone else can move homes, find a new shelter, but Angel-who-isn’t can’t. There is only half of this Angel left. This half of Angel knows that regret is a lurking thing, and remorse is a sickening thing. You can shed skin but you can’t shed remorse unless you rip out your soul and — —  isn’t that confusing? That isn’t part of this narrative. You have to _want_ it.

 

(What is it like to be the wolf _and_ the body?)

 

(What is it like to be the teeth _and_ the skin?)

 

(What is it like to be the wound _and_ the thread?)

 

(What is it like to be the end _and_ the beginning?)

 

 

iii.

 

The story of Spike and Angel could be a Greek myth. The story of Angel and his skin could be a bedtime story. _If you aren’t a good person, you will try to shed your skin._

The story of Spike and Angel could be a story, and at the end of the story there could be a _happily ever after, the end._

That story is not this story. There will never be an end to this story.

 

When Angel finally becomes Spike, finally crawls inside of Spike’s skin, he moves on.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a year since I've written spangel! Toooooooo loooooong. Spangel is my comfy fic home.


End file.
